


The Boy on the Outside

by sophisticatedloserchick



Series: Trapped in the Mirror-World [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Smut, F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophisticatedloserchick/pseuds/sophisticatedloserchick
Summary: Barry tries to figure out where he belongs in this Post-Crisis world and feeling like his wife has changed.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West
Series: Trapped in the Mirror-World [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663735
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	The Boy on the Outside

The last time Barry felt connected to Iris was the night after he came back from Lian Yu.

The two of them sat in front of the fireplace talking about what their life would be like in this post-crisis world and how they’d get through it together. Barry felt less alone knowing Iris was as lost as he was in this new world where so much had changed and each new day served as a reminder for what they lost. Barry had felt constantly ten steps behind, weighed down by carrying Oliver’s death and the battle with Anti-Monitor. Barry couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment the world would tip on its scale and become something completely different.

But with Iris he felt like he was on stable ground again. This of course wasn’t anything new to him. Even before his days of being the Flash Iris was the one who picked up his broken pieces and kept him together after he lost his parents.

Those feelings of safety and security came back to him again staring at Iris the orange glow of the firelight. The light softening the curves of her face, her dark eyes almost seemed to burn bright as she looked at him. Barry could still remember the softness of her lips as he kissed her. How he buried his face in her neck to breath in the sweet smell of her soap. Their hands peeling away the layers of clothes as their hands mapped out the familiar territory of their bodies.

The two of them made love that night on the living room floor with a kind of sweet abandon. Barry had felt the burdens he’d been carrying for months lift from his shoulders while buried deep inside his wife,her soft breathy moans echoing in his ears. After they both collapsed into each other, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat and their desires sated, Barry had gathered his wife up in his arms and carried her to their bed.

They’d fallen asleep that night wrapped up in each other arms, bodies pressed close, their hearts beating in time with the other.

Then the next morning Barry woke up and everything had changed.

Iris didn’t seem like Iris anymore.

At the start of changes were small, almost comical. Iris who couldn’t cook anything without charring it black could suddenly make perfect pancakes. She spoke fluent Italian despite Barry remembering how they both struggled to pass high school Spanish. Barry brushed off these changes as the after effects of Crisis, different but nothing for him to worry about. 

Iris then started to distance herself from him.

When he reached out to touch her she would pull away. His fingers only able to lightly brush the skin that now felt cold to the touch. When Barry looked into her dark eyes to seek the warmth that he always found there he would instead see glassy black surfaces like a mirror that reflected nothing back.

For the first time in his life Iris felt like a stranger to him. He found himself not knowing what to say or how to act around her. Second guessing himself whenever they interacted.

In those moments of quiet despair when he thought to himself ‘is this really my Iris?’ he always forced himself to push aside those fears and doubts.

Afterall Iris still looked the same. Her voice was the same. Her passion and drive as an investigative reporter didn’t waver. In so many ways the Iris that stood before him resembled the women he loved and known since he was eight years old.

And yet.

And yet something felt off but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Anytime he reflected on it for too long the conclusion ha came to was that the problem lay with him. He was the one who couldn’t adapt to this new post crisis world the way Iris could. He had once again rooted himself in the past, focusing on what he lost, rather than embrace the changes in the present. Iris had done nothing wrong, all she was doing was moving forward with her life. Barry was the one who needed to figure out how to try exist in this new world again.

He needed to stop standing on the outside of his life and watching it pass by right in front of him.

And if he did maybe he would be able to connect to Iris once more.

But for now the distance stayed between them. Barry dreaded going home at night. Before the changes he used to do everything he could to get home as soon as possible to be with his wife. Now he did everything he could to delay it. Because when he opened the door to the condo all that greeted him was darkness and silence. The warmth and light that Iris had once filled their home with had seemingly been snuffed out like a fragile flame on a candle.

Barry walked through the rooms feeling like a stranger in his own home.

His eyes drifted towards the living room where the fireplace was. Images of Iris’s naked body bathed in orange light filled his head. He could still remember how her dark eyes looked up at him with love. He could almost hear the sweet words she had whispered against his skin as he moved inside her.

How could that all be gone now, he wondered to himself, why is that version of Iris becoming more and more a distant memory.

Even lost in his thoughts Barry suddenly felt a strong pull. Like someone was calling his name. The feeling that someone was watching him, trying to reach out to him.

Barry lifted his head and without thinking turned to look at the large mirror that stood in the living room. The hairs at the back of his neck standing up on end as a chill went through his body. Something about the mirror didn’t feel right, he felt both drawn to it but also repelled by it.

But that was crazy right?

All he saw when he looked at the mirror was his own reflection, nothing else. He had to remind himself in this new world he had to get used to being completely alone.


End file.
